


Weekly Massages

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly rough case, Spencer gives his girlfriend, the reader, a massage.</p><p>Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weekly Massages

“You know, Y/N, there are a plethora of benefits to getting a massage consistently. More than 87% of people that get them feel a dip in their stress level and more than 30% of people feel more balanced and obtain an emotional release,” your boyfriend spouted. He could give you a statistic on anything imaginable - no matter how obscure. You could literally ask him what the most dangerous occupation is in the United States and he would be able to tell you that although the common misconception is the that those in law enforcement are in the most peril, it’s actually fishermen that have the most dangerous jobs, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. No matter how often he rattled off random facts, it never annoyed you and it never ceased to amaze you - the wealth of his knowledge. “Is that so, babe?” You collapsed on the couch, exhausted and tense after a tough case that left you battered and bruised at the hands of the unsub.

“Absolutely, Y/N,” he responded, walking into the kitchen to grab a beer. “Nearly 60 percent of all massage clients are female, and it could help with injury rehabilitation as well.”

It was a nice idea, you thought. “But with our jobs, where do you suggest I find the time to make massages a part of my routine?”

With all the knowledge he had, he hadn’t thought of that. “Well, I guess I don’t know,” he acknowledged, using the Darth Vader bottle opener to crack open his beer. He turned around the find you face down on the couch, physically and emotionally drained. He had enough information to give his girlfriend a proper massage though.

“I know enough to give you a massage, Y/N,” Spencer whispered, touching your back. “Why don’t we go inside and I’ll take care of you for a little while?”

“Of course you’d be able to give an amazing massage. What can’t you do, Spence?” you asked, slowly rising from the couch to amble toward the bedroom.

He followed closely behind you, reaching out to open the door for you. “There’s plenty I can’t do, Y/N,” he said, kissing the base of your neck. “But I can give the love of my life an adequate massage to make her feel better.”

After changing into a pair of loose, comfortable pajamas, you lay face down on the newly-washed comforter, featuring Star Wars of course. In that soft voice that always put yourself and those around you at ease, he spoke, “Alright, Y/N, just take a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

You did as he asked and felt some of your troubles, pain and tension fall away as Spencer placed his slightly oiled hands on your back underneath your pajama shirt. You opened your eyes to talk to him, but he wasn’t having it. “And definitely keep your eyes closed. We can talk later,” he said leaning down to kiss your forehead, “right now, just relax and focus on what I’m doing.”

“Ok, babe,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed. As you placed your hands under your head to rest on, you focused in on his hands, slowly kneading at the base of your spine, increasing and decreasing in pressure as he traveled up and toward your shoulder blades and back down, over and over again. On his third or fourth trip (you couldn’t remember) between your shoulder blades, he took care to ease the giant knot that always plagued you. You always carried your stress in your shoulders.

“I’m telling you, babe, you need to take care of this more often,” he whispered, increasing the pressure to new highs, “how your shoulders haven’t exploded is beyond me.”

You took another deep breath, “Why would I go and pay money to have someone else do it, when I can get a quality massage from my amazing boyfriend?” The question came out in one long breath, and you relaxed even further into the mattress. “You can increase the pressure at my shoulders by the way.”

Before doing as you asked, he reapplied the massage oil to his hands. “What? You think I’m gonna give these amazing massages away for free?”

You chuckled softly into your hands. “Yesssss,” you drew out, practically falling asleep, “because you love me.”

He laughed through his noise, “You’ve got me there, Y/N.” After releasing what he could of the knot between your shoulders, he moved to your arms and legs, which had taken the brunt of the blows from the unsub, which you’d successfully subdued, by the way.

After nearly an hour, you had fallen in and out of sleep numerous times, reveling in Spencer’s deft touch. His voice was barely audible as he as said, “Why don’t you sit up and lean back against me?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, your movements mirroring those of a baby giraffe learning to move for the first time. You kept your eyes closed as you leaned back against him, noticing the feel of the cotton t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he was wearing. He must’ve gotten changed when you’d fallen asleep.

You were both seated upright against the pillows, covered by the comforter up to your waists. He continued his nimble movements, massaging the front of your arms and ending at your hands. Hand massages were severely underrated - and he was a master.

He must’ve thought you had fallen asleep because he slowly eased his hands off of you, pulling the blanket up further to cover everything but your head. As he gently pulled you toward him, you wanted to let him know he was doomed. Doomed to a lifetime of massages. 

Without opening your eyes, you turned back to him and kissed his nose, “Now that I know how good of a masseur you are, you are required to give me a massage once a week.”


End file.
